The Day I Died
by Jackie Harkness
Summary: The Captain and the Doctor have a strange encounter with Someone on the day of their death. Set post DW series 3 and pre TW series 2.
1. Chapter 1

Hello.

.

It's nice to meet you.

.

My name is… well, it's not important.

.

And this is the way I died.

.

It wasn't a significant day at all. Not that significance would provide much comfort, but I remember a rather bland, ever so slightly boring day. It was chilly and

dark, but starkly beautiful. I was in Carrick-on-Shannon during the month of March, twenty-first century earth. Lovely year. Not sure why I was in Ireland, but I

remember wanting to leave before that one saint's holiday, with all the potatoes. Rotten things, potatoes. In some regions of Clum I believe they are poisonous.

But even though the day was lovely, the air crisp, and the atmosphere comfortable, (I had taken on a native accent, with much difficulty) there was an ever

present feeling that permeated the air. A sense of foreboding if you will. Were someone to come up to me and outright tell me that I was to die, I might have

believed them. However, that may or may not have had something to do with _that _man. He was standing in the corner of the market, watching, when I first saw

him. His face was sad, his dark hair ruffling in the wind, as he stood observing. His blue eyes were dark with thoughts, but nothing escaped his scrutiny. Finally, he

seemed to feel my gaze, and he turned ever so slightly to catch my eye. He smiled. His face was still sad, but he smiled just the same. I never knew how he could

portray two different emotions at once. I moved toward him, but as I passed a venders stand (rotten things, potatoes) the building across the way exploded with a

flash of violet light. The windows blew out toward me, mercilessly slicing my arm and hands as I scrambled for cover. People ran and screamed, panicked and

desperate, trampling all in their path. Despite the terror, I couldn't help but rejoice as the cart of potatoes behind me was viciously destroyed in the wake of the

stampede. That thought snapped me to my senses, and I moved toward the now burning building, which I determined was a family-owned restaurant. No one

appeared to be inside, and the fire was only licking at the bricks and frame. The inside was gone. Literally, gone. The tables, the people, the floor. They had all

disappeared leaving the empty building with a mud floor. This absolutely odd sequence of events left me with only one thing to say.

.

"Well, crap. Here we go, again."


	2. Chapter 2

The day I died.

.

Sounds a little cliche.

.

Almost like someone's memoir.

.

I just called it Tuesday.

.

I had read some good memoirs in my day. _Memoirs of a Dalak._ That was a good one. _Tuesday's with an Ood._ That was another one. Memoirs and Tuesdays.

Amazing what you think of when you're going to die. Course, I didn't know it at the time. I just called it shock. Actually no. I still just called it Tuesday. _That_ man

now picked himself up off the ground and came to stand by me. His dark blue dress shirt had one large hole ripped into it about where his heart would be. The

edges were jagged and stained with blood but there was no visible injury. "Odd." I couldn't keep from musing that out loud, but he just cocked an eyebrow at me

with a small smile. "Do you know who I am?" I squinted at his face, wondering if I did know him. Finally, I just told the truth. "Not your name. I've just seen you

before. Somewhere." He gave a real smile this time, one that reached those gorgeous blue eyes. I looked back into the building. "Did you know that was going to

happen?"

He shook his head. "No but a friend of mine did. He was in there with them."

"Well, where have they gone?"

"Don't know. But I will soon, and when I find out…" He was cut off by a beeping that came from a thick leather strap on his wrist. "Ooh, there we go." He pushed

a couple buttons, and straightened his shoulders as if to prepare himself to run. Suddenly he stopped, and looked thoughtfully at me. "Fancy to come along?" He

grinned, and sparks of merriment danced across his eyes as I melted inside. He held out his hand to me. "Let's see where they went."

.

To this day, I don't know why I grabbed his hand.


	3. Chapter 3

People say you get a feeling.

.

You know.

.

Before you die.

.

I always had a feeling.

.

Not that I would die.

.

That was a bit unexpected.

.

But ever since I could remember (and that's saying something) I've always had some sort of feeling. Like, I knew who would win a cricket match before they

began. Or I knew which planet of the Hispanola cluster was the inspiration for Treasure Island. Little things like that. Then a couple big ones. Life altering ones.

Secret ones. So you can understand my disappointment when I didn't even have a vague inclination that I would die. _That _Man should have been a clue, but I

must admit, I got a little lost in those deep blue eyes. They didn't match his face. Or his body. Or even him. They held the knowledge and secrets of centuries all

swirled into the depths of the irises. I placed my hand in his, small by comparison, and his strong tan fingers squeezed down, interlocking with mine. He held that

for a moment, then pulled me by my arm close against him. Our hands entwined between us gave me a close examination of the strap on his arm. It was thick

and leather, with a flap hiding a small control pad, and from the orbital stabilizers I determined it contained partial psychic boosters. He pushed a couple controls

and suddenly there was a tremendous (and rather painful) jolt, and the burning building frame was gone. We landed, i suppose, on a smooth hard floor. Very

hard. I fell hard onto my back while he was on his side, but somehow, he never let go of my hand. Once the residual shock wore off and the throbbing of my head

died down to a low (but still painful) hum, I looked around and realized we were on the deck of some sort of spaceship. My guess was sometime during midwatch

on the lower levels and hopefully the guards had made their rounds. With a loud grunt, he laughed and pulled me from the floor. "Come along then. You look like

you need a Doctor!" Still holding my hand, he led me down the corridor stopping every now and then to listen. With seeming reluctance, he let go of my hand and

pushed a few controls on his wrist-strap. "Two floors up. Locked doors. And… " his voice trailed off. Finally he smiled. "Oh good! Only twenty guards. I was

expecting twice that. Now, walk or jump?" he indicated his wrist. I immediately spoke up. "Walk."

.

"Did I mention the locked doors? or the guards, cause I was sure I mentioned the guards."

"Leave the doors to me, and no offense but I think I would rather take on thirty guards then do another space hop of death with your contraption."

His eyes swirled with nostalgia as he said, "I've had worse nights."

He smiled. "But walking it is. Now, this way… I think."

I smiled as well, and for some reason (to which I also can't explain) I held out my hand, the left one this time. His face melted into the sweetest expression I'd

ever seen in a man (again, that's saying something) and he grasped my hand gently, his long fingers again intertwining with mine.

.

"Well then," I said "Shall we be off?


	4. Chapter 4

There are those who say it only takes a moment to find true love.

.

Most of those who say this work as lyricists for broadway musicals.

.

I saw a theatre production on the Isle of Camelot once.

.

Brilliant play.

.

Lasted two weeks.

.

Best shrimp this side of the Pacific Galaxy.

.

But they all say the same thing. Or sing the same tune, I should say. "Love will find you in an instant." "Love at first sight." (or touch, or smell, or whatever the

species dominant sense is). I never believed them. First love I had it took three years for it to blossom. The fact that he was stuck in a time-space continuum

didn't really help. Second love was the first in reverse. I kept crashing into the same 56 hours over and over. But it still took awhile. But when I grasped the hand

of _That _Man, (without a severe headache being the end result) I felt what they meant. It was a little spark, that leapt from his palm to mine and shot down my

arm fast enough to take my breath away. To be fair to the other senses, there was a smell, and a sight, and even a sound. But that touch… whoa. That's the one

that did it. Later on in the day that I died, he would tell me that the first time he touched me (that horribly painful space bound) is when he felt that spark. The

second time I guess he just was giving it back. Course, I didn't know it at the time. About the spark, I mean. Or the dying come to think of it. But as we sprinted

down that hallway, and climbed into that elevator, then the elevator shaft when we realized we couldn't move the elevator (all this time still trying to get my

breath) I couldn't help but shiver as he held my hand, or secretly groan when he let go. (We kind of realized it would make climbing into the shaft a bit awkward.)

Never thought that would have happened while trying to find the innards of a building. Which by the way was three floors up. We stopped at two to pick up his

friend. He was extremely amused to find that my method of lock-picking involved laser-soled shoes. Thirtieth century Russia just has the best little shops. In the

midst of the yelling and shooting (the guards) and the running (us) and the brief glimpse of their prisoner (a quick " 'ello. I'm the Doctor" by way of introduction)

and I found my hand securely held in his once again. I think it was just after we freed the "Doctor" and as he was yelling "Run!" He had grabbed me, and once

again I felt that spark. Only now, it stayed like a electrical connection, like something was linking us together. I told his friend later on that it was to keep up with

their long strides. While that was a plus (both were quite tall. And fast) the real reason was that I couldn't let him go. Metaphorically speaking.

.

I guess that's why when it came down to it, I really didn't want to die.


	5. Chapter 5

Love makes the world spin round.

.

I'd heard that one before.

.

Love turns your brain into mush.

.

That one I was more inclined to believe.

.

I'd seen it happen before.

.

Brains into mush, not the earth spinning.

.

Though come to think of it, I'd seen that too. Long story that one. But I knew the most sensible man alive. Meets the right girl, and suddenly he's selling his

retirement funds to buy her jewelry and gifts and stars. There's a lovely planet that has stars so small, they are mined from a burnt out sun and sold (at high

cost) to brighten up ones lifestyle. The purple ones are quite beautiful. Had a pocket watch made out of one. It was always .002 seconds ahead. I didn't care, I

was never late. But I always wondered what changed him so much. I finally think I know. It isn't that you're suddenly daft in the head, it's that you would do

anything to have that someone look at you like you gave them the world. Or a star. So as I'm running for my life, ducking back into the elevator shaft (and

apparently learning that a sonic screwdriver could have overridden the lift controls) and scrambling for safety, I looked at _That_ Man and wondered. Did I actually

love him? A couple things I knew. We connected. He was, in fact, gorgeous. He had saved my life several times already. And I would do anything to make his eyes

spark. They hadn't since he first invited me along (wondered if I should be regretting that) although they still shone brilliantly. Sometimes they appeared

shuttered, closed off. Other times, scarily, they appeared simply blank. And they twinkled at his doctor friend, who despite first appearances, was handy for escape

plans. At last, we reached the third floor and stepped from the shaft into the dining area of a lovely, homey restaurant. And of course the only thing that the

Doctor could say was "Right then. Anyone fancy a meal?" Had I known it would have been my last meal, I might have taken him up on the offer. But then again,

that restaurant served potatoes. (Rotten things, potatoes) The Doctor. Apparently that's his name. Just the Doctor. Well, what's in a name. I mean, I'm one to

talk. But still, just The Doctor. "Strange." Couldn't resist that one either. But The Doctor just smiled. I guess he had heard them all before. I didn't care. I was

filled with adrenaline, I was hand in hand with the most beautiful man I'd ever seen (again, that's saying something) and it felt like nothing could stop me.

.

Until I turned around to come face-to-face with a shotgun.


	6. Chapter 6

They say you never feel so alive then when you're closest to death.

.

I'd never been that close to death, so I couldn't say.

.

My guess is, people who say that never have either.

.

Still, the potential for death looms over all.

.

Well, apparently not all as I later found out.

.

But it's there.

.

So you would think that I'd be a little less thrilled to be having an intimate meeting with a shotgun. But I was ecstatic. All the places I had been, all the people I had met, all the

experiences I'd had, (code for trouble I'd been in) all that time I had never had a shotgun aimed at my head. So I more then likely startled the wielder to no end when I pumped my

fist in the air and laughed out loud. "Oh, this is brilliant! I am indebted to you my good man." This was addressed to the poor bloke holding the gun, which was now lilting toward the

floor a bit. He stared at me as if wondering what I might do were he to shoot me. Fortunately The Doctor stepped in with "Harold! There you are, wondered where you were. Put that

down, it's alright." 'Harold' obliged, now looking a bit sheepish, but still kept a wary eye on me. _That _Man just held his fist against his mouth and shook with the effort of trying not to

laugh. Turns out 'Harold' was the restaurant manager at the time of the… disappearance. The Doctor had attempted to evacuate the building before the blast, but a waitress, a

patron, and 'Harold' hadn't made it out. However, they were close enough to the door to avoid whomever had found The Doctor, and had been hiding (fiercely armed, no less) ever

since. Apparently the building was involved in a temporal shift in space, and had quite by accident ended up on a spaceship orbiting Jupiter. The ship's species (I never caught the

name) were simply scared and defending themselves. The Doctor said that the shift could be reversed. Only problem? It would take three hours. Only other problem? The ship was

due to jump dimensions in two hours. That actually wasn't as big a problem as it seemed. You'd be amazed at what a laser-soled shoe can do to an engine cooling tank. You wouldn't

be as amazed at the kind of damage a malfunctioning engine cooling tank can do to the maintenance corridor where it's kept. Ten seconds after my hard kick a blast of hot air

knocked me off my feet. An alarm blared (that was expected) and electric wiring started to spark, as I tried to clear my blurry vision. The sparks turned into flames as the cooling tank

control panel caught on fire (now that wasn't as expected) and the hot air still bellowing out of the tank spread the fire from one console to the next and smoke clogged the air above

me. My head was throbbing, my forehead was split open and bleeding, and I realized that the fire was blocking my only exit. They say you never feel so alive then when you're closest

to death.

.

I'll be the first to tell you, that's just plain rubbish.


	7. Chapter 7

Never thought I'd die in a fire.

.

No, seriously.

.

I thought I might drown, get struck by lightning, or have every atom of my body disassemble.

.

But I never thought I'd die in a fire.

.

Once on Ka'tam, I thought I would die of Anthrax poisoning.

.

Thank goodness for extra-terrestrial antibodies.

.

But for some strange reason, fire never occurred to me.

.

Always thought my life would flash before my eyes too. Instead I just saw smoke, flames, and bright flashing lights. Concussion may have had something to do with that. I also saw

_That _Man pushing through the fire, as if some cruel fate was gloating over me what I would be losing. It wasn't until I heard him yelling for me that I realized it was actually him. His

great coat was gone, and his dress shirt was wrapped protectively around his arm. His white undershirt was quickly turning gray with smoke, when he finally reached me. Things

were starting to go fuzzy around the edges. I felt a gentle hand examine my head, before I was swept off the floor into his strong arms, and he charged out of the burning corridor.

Next thing I knew I was looking up into his concerned face as he set me down on a table and The Doctor was preparing to look at my head. The Doctor was gonna doctor. That was

funny. Not as funny as 'Harold' the shotgun wielder looking guilty as a renegade slitheen. But still funny. While carrying me through the fire, we had both sustained some injuries. I

had a minor burn on my forearm, and he had been struck by a burning support post on his shoulder. The Doctor doctored (still so funny) as best as he could, and soon I could sit

upright without seeing double. While what I did was regarded as "foolish" ('Harold's words) and "Brilliant!!" (The Doctors) the general consensus was that it had worked. The Doctor

had enough time to safely reverse the temporal shift. Temporal shifts. They're always fun. Back in 1820's Earth some genius created one that connected to Raxacoricofallapatorius in

a diamond mine. All that work, all those diamonds, zero results. On Earth at least. I didn't know how to close or reverse it so, being the nineteenth century, I had to kick it old school.

(That's code for infinitesimal warp bomb.) Only problem was I ended up on Raxacoricofallapatorius during the great civil war, with the temporal shift destroyed behind me. The

mangoes there are delectable. The Doctor scurried around the room, snatching wires and cables from goodness know where, babbling on about… well something. Had I been slightly

more coherent I might have understood him. Instead I leaned back on the table, wincing a bit as I moved my arm, and turned to see a set of baby blue eyes looking concerned at

me. He smiled as he caught my gaze.

"How are you feeling?" I smiled back at him.

"Been better." I shifted a bit to look him full in the face. "Thank you. You know, for saving my life. Sorry about your shoulder."

"You're welcome. And don't worry. Not the first time I've been burned trying to pick someone up."

I couldn't help it, I laughed. We both did. After awhile The Doctor gave us a strange look. It was strange I suppose. Here we were, in a restaurant, on a spaceship, both of us a bit

worse for the wear, and laughing our bloody heads off. I was right. I never thought I'd die in a fire.

.

Of course, I never thought that this would be the day I'd die.


	8. Chapter 8

They say the hour is darkest before the day dawneth.

.

Anyone who is awake before dawn knows this isn't true.

.

I was once on a planet where the moonlight was brighter than the sunlight.

.

But right before dawn is gray, not black.

.

In fact it gets lighter the closer it gets to dawn.

.

And so does your life, the closer it gets to death.

.

At least mine did.

.

The crisis averted, the temporal shift reversing, and The Doctor being 'brilliant', left nothing to do but wait. I sat there with _That _Man, talking. I told him of places I had been, and he

didn't look at me strangely when I made obscure references (although having met The Doctor, I could see why) and he told me about how he had lived through a year that never

was. The Doctor had a time-traveling spaceship that was used to create a paradox and once it was reverted that year ceased to exist. He told me how The Doctor's ship was still being

fixed, and how a girl named Martha Jones saved the world and now was helping her family to recover. I wondered out loud what I had been doing during that year, and how he had

survived. He got a rather sad look on his face, then told me the most shocking thing I had ever heard of. He can't die. Ever. Every time he gets killed he comes back to life. I must

have been staring at him with abject wonder because he laughed, and said that I seemed to be taking it well. I wanted to know how. I mean, I had seen a species that could survive

a bullet to the brain (albeit with severe consequences) but even they could be killed. He paused, and looked off quietly until I was about to tell him I was sorry for mentioning it. Then

he told me about Rose, this girl who used to travel with him and The Doctor. They were on a satellite and he was "Exterminated!" (sorry, that's just catchy) by three Daleks. As soon

as he said "Dalek" my blood ran cold. I made it a point to never cross paths with them and so far, never had. But this girl absorbed some sort of time-vortex and brought him back.

For good. His eyes looked hollow as he told me about when he first started dying and coming back. "I figured it out. I'm the man who can't die." And suddenly I knew him. Admittedly

I could have handled it a bit better than sucking in my breath and pointing at him. "THAT'S where I've seen you!!" He stared at me, stunned. "Early twentieth century Britain?

Traveling carnival? You were 'The Man Who Cannot Die.' I knew I recognized you."

He grinned as recognition dawned on his face. "Oh yeah! I remember. Wait, what were you doing in twentieth century Britain?"

"Uh, long story. Anyway…" He suddenly cut me off. "The explosion at the Dowd Estate? That was _you_?"

"In my defense…"

He busted out laughing. "I was sent to investigate that! That was you. I could only determine that the blast was caused by an explosive element that wouldn't exist for two hundred

years. On a different planet!"

"Look, it wasn't my fault. He had a three hundred kilo snake! I had to kill it. It bit me too." He was still laughing. I decided he was beautiful when he laughed. Suddenly there was a

tremendous noise, and a deep, throbbing light as The Doctor hollered "Right then! Hold on." The temporal shift was reversing, so I grabbed his arm as we were thrown across the

room toward The Doctor and 'Harold'. Didn't see the other two, not sure where they went. His face was quite close to mine as he laughed in delight, and when he turned and looked

at me, his eyes sparked with merriment. Those gorgeous blue eyes sparked. It looked as though everything would turn out. The shift reversed to almost the same time, the building

back where it belonged (albeit with some structural damage), and I had never been happier. I had befriended two of the most amazing men in the universe and had the adventure of

a lifetime.

.

Who knows, maybe this wouldn't be the time I died.


	9. Chapter 9

Someone once said "All is a riddle, and the key to a riddle...is another riddle."

.

I think they just gave up on trying to figure life out.

.

But, as much as I hate to concede to the point of a cryptic saying, it's true.

.

The intricacies of life are jumbled together like a giant pretzel.

.

Love pretzels.

.

I once ran four miles through blinding rain to get a pretzel.

.

The five men with guns chasing me didn't hurt much, either.

.

But life is all twisted together like a rope ladder. For instance, the first time I visited Avalon, it was in my (technical) future. But the next time I went it would be considered my past.

So the second time I went was actually the first time I arrived. I understand most people haven't jumbled lives like me, but even theirs is fatefully intertwined in some way. Life is

quite funny in that regard. Always tossing and turning events and circumstances like a bowl of pasta. I had once been to a restaurant where the pasta was alive. Never went back.

They served potatoes (rotten things, potatoes). But it seemed my adventure had come to an end. All was well, (minus the poor restaurant) and people were more than thrilled to

believe that a bomb had been detonated in the infrastructure of the building, while 'Harold' and the others inside believed they were imagining things. I was standing there with _That_

Man, looking at a good days work. It felt like not a thing could go wrong in the world. So you would imagine my intense surprise when one of the guards from the spaceship dug

himself (or itself, I couldn't really tell) out of the ruble. I was the first to see him, and took off running toward him. As I got closer, he hefted a large weapon to his shoulder and took

aim at the building across the row. My heart almost stopped as I recognized it. It was invented on a remote dwarf planet and was designed for one purpose; to kill humans. A large

canister would fire from the barrel and land like a bomb, before releasing a toxin that was specifically fitted to human DNA. Depending on the size of the canister, it could potentially

destroy an entire country. He fired the weapon, as I desperately leapt in the air toward him. I wasn't close enough to stop him, but the canister slammed solidly into my stomach

(fortunately before it armed itself) and punctured a hole in my torso. As I fell heavily to the ground, I heard the distinct report of a WWII pistol firing and knew the guard was taken

care of. Pistol still smoking, he ran to my side with The Doctor in tow. The Doctor knelt next to me, with his ever faithful sonic screwdriver, and began taking readings of the… well,

the hunk of metal stuck in my gut. As The Doctor mumbled and somehow used a screwdriver to make a medical examination, (I mean, how can you diagnose with a _screwdriver?!_) I

felt a strong hand grasp mine. His brilliant blue eyes were almost melting with sorrow. The Doctor looked at me, then at him. "The explosion is disarmed but…" he looked back at me

"the toxin released into her body."

.

For some reason, the only thing I could think of was how I so should have seen this coming.


	10. Chapter 10

Hello.

.

It was nice meeting you.

.

My name still isn't important.

.

And, as promised, this is the story of how I died.

.

It was now a slightly more significant day.

.

It was still chilly, dark, and beautiful.

.

And I could still see that bloody stand of potatoes. (Rotten things, potatoes) All in all, it was almost exactly the same. Except of course, the whole dying thing. And the two people

crowded around me. The Doctor was still beeping away on his little device. "Don't worry about them" here he gave a wave over his shoulder at the city "the toxin is contained, but

she's just human enough for it to be destroying her heart." Confused faces glanced at him. He looked between us. "She's not entirely human." He looked at me. "Didn't you know

that?" I coughed and shook my head. "Suspected. Wasn't sure." I coughed again, and blood flecked at the corner of my mouth. Brilliant. Bloody brilliant. Oh, that works two ways.

The Doctor kept going. "Well, whatever else you are, it's keeping the toxin from dissipating into the air like it would with other humans." I knew what he wasn't saying. I had

minutes. If that. I turned my gaze to _That _Man, who was holding my hand, and smiling sadly at me. He gave The Doctor a knowing glance, and I guess The Doctor got the hint,

because he stood and smiled at me, before moving to sit across the room from us. He turned back to me, and stroked the hair off my forehead gently. I could feel my blood slowing

down, and it was hard to breathe. I held his hand tightly and tried to smile. "Can I ask you something?" He nodded, his free hand stroking the back of my hand and arm. "What's

your name?" He laughed. Loudly. I think he couldn't help it. After all we had been through I still didn't know his name. He held out his right hand. "Captain Jack Harkness." Captain

Jack Harkness. _That _Man was Captain Jack Harkness. It suited him. Better yet, it suited his eyes. I shook his hand, then moved to cup his face; I didn't notice that I smeared blood on

his cheek. The only thing I could see was those gorgeous eyes. "Nice to meet you. Captain Harkness." That was the last thing I knew.

.

Thus ended the day I died.


	11. Chapter 11

_Hello._

_._

_It's nice to meet you._

.

_My name is Captain Jack Harkness._

_._

_And this is the day _That _Girl died._

_._

_I didn't know it at the time. That she would die, I mean. Or even her name for that matter. I had seen her before, though. Her picture was posted at the Time Agency when I joined. _

_She wasn't dangerous, they just had a lookout for her. She was from the fortieth century, and could bounce through time and space like skipping down a sidewalk. That's all I knew, _

_all anyone knew. The Doctor had seen her on several occasions, he later told me, usually running from trouble and laughing that lovely laugh. He always called her Spunk, because _

_he said she could get out of any situation and fix any problem that blocked her way. I remembered her from the carnival. Mainly because she was the only female wearing pants, but _

_also that look in her eye, like she knew everything that was about to happen and couldn't wait for the fun to begin. I don't know why I didn't connect her to the Dowd explosion. It _

_might have made sense, but she had that innocent little face so it never occurred to me. I had seen her during WWII in Germany, doing freelance spying for French Intelligence. But _

_the time I knew her from was during that year. That fateful year that never was. She had been caught by a Toclafane, walking across the Burning Fields of Japan. She was brought to _

_the Valiant and held there while the Master tried to figure out who she was. We only spoke for a moment, but she brought a ray of sunshine to that dark, depressing hole. She was _

_so unbelievably hopeful that the Master didn't kill her. At least not directly. He shipped her to the rocket silos of Russia. I didn't even recognize her until we talked on the spaceship. I _

_had been about to tell her some wild story about places I had been, when she turned her head and those eyes had twinkled at me, just like so many months ago on the Valiant. So I _

_told her everything. The Master, the Toclafane, the brave Martha Jones. And about the first time I had seen her. That morning across the market, waiting for the Doctor to determine _

_what was going to happen with the temporal shift. When the building exploded and a large metal column had impaled my chest, then when the Doctor had sent me coordinates, I _

_was running on autopilot (how long have you lived when dying becomes automatic?). Then for some reason I cannot explain, I held out my hand and invited her along. Her eyes lit _

_up with excitement, and as soon as she grabbed my hand, I felt a spark of energy shoot down my arm. Suddenly, it was now an adventure to teleport into the unknown (I was really _

_getting used to my vortex manipulator working again), even though the ride was a bit bumpy. Through it all, the running and yelling and being shot at, and the basic general chaos _

_that traveling with the Doctor produces, I couldn't seem to let go of her hand. Correction; I wouldn't let go. She later told the Doctor that it made it easier to keep up with us, (she _

_was a little short) but then she looked at me in such a way that I knew there was another reason. I think she wouldn't let go of me the same way I wouldn't let her go. So when I _

_found myself a few hours later, staring across the Shannon River with her blood still on my face, it felt unreal how we connected. I can't explain it. Scarier still, neither could the _

_Doctor. He was standing a bit off downriver, going through his usual thought process after a human (or in this case, half-human) saved the day. In this instance, I think, she _

_surpassed even his expectations of bravery. I looked down, and in my hand was her pocket watch. It was made from a Morfiat Infinitesimal star. A violet one. She had given it to me, _

_when she was explaining how she had acquired it, (her words) and when I tried to give it back she looked at me pensively and told me to keep it. I'd never be late, she said and she _

_laughed. That lovely laugh. The watch, when opened, would pulse with an energetic light. I found it befitting of her. I was still staring at the watch when the Doctor walked over to _

_me in a slightly subdued state of mind. Following the year that never was, this had become slightly routine between us. A quiet acceptance of what we had been through. "Right _

_then. Shall we be off?" I looked at him, then glanced across the river. We should be going. The TARDIS was currently being fixed, and we both had a lot of work, plus looking in on _

_Martha and the Joneses. So, I smiled and held out my vortex manipulator for him to grab onto. As he did so, he looked at me a little hesitantly and said "This has been a good day, _

_yea?" I input the coordinates, thinking. _

.

_"No. It has been… _fantastic._"_

.

_And just before we jumped, I thought I heard the echo of someone laughing._

_._

_That lovely laugh._


End file.
